Tonight, Tonight
by Shini-Kender
Summary: After hours on March 31st, the division is full of more activity than one might think. KuukakuMayuri, IkkakuNemu, AkonShuuhei. Spoilers for Urahara's past.


Hushed tones filled the main office of the twelfth division. At this time of night there wasn't a lot to be done. Many of the other members of the division had retreated to their quarters for the night and what remained to be done in the main office tended to be teeter a bit closer to the edge of the law than usual.

Often, the only ones up at this hour would be the captain and the vice captain, working late into the night, often on projects that were only whispered about in the halls of the division. Her gentle voice would occasionally break the silence with a mechanically delivered remark, while his shorter and far more derisive would counter it and send it all too frequently into silence once again.

Tonight, however, a third voice had joined the pair. He was a frequent visitor to the main offices. His was a slightly more mellow voice when compared to the captain's harsher one, although it delivered the sharp words just as well, often hidden in a smooth wrapping of sarcasm, like a blade wrapped in nylon.

The trio of voices worked like a bizarre symphony, giving and taking, a constant flow and trade of information over the diagrams and reports that were spread wide over the captain's desk.

A knock was the only warning of an interruption to that music of voices.

Mayuri glared up at the grinning visage that brushed through the door as if it were her own, fingers tensing in barely concealed irritation and anger. He barely could restrain himself from spitting out the name, "Shiba."

Kuukaku snorted, pushing through the door, a bustier companion in tow in the form of the tenth division vice captain. Her grin quirked to a vicious mark to match the scowl that darkened Mayuri's face, "Mayu-chan."

Her familiar drawl was lined with just a hint of dark delight, an almost obscene amusement taken from her intended subject's rather distaste of both her and her antics.

"What are you here for?" he snapped, hardly in the mood to deal with any of this.

"Kurotsuchi-taichou," Rangiku's matching tone was thick compared to the others', although perhaps more amused than particularly sadistic. "We were just in the area and thought perhaps you'd like to celebrate. It is a special night after all."

This wasn't the first time the pair had intruded into the captain's life, but previous visits had been in the company of quite a few others. And, most notably, the man who sat in the captain's seat today had been addressed as 'Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou', a title now taken by his daughter. Although, admittedly, he was more often simply given the fond nickname of 'Mayu-chan' by his doting blond captain.

"Aaah, we're just making merry on this anniversary," Kuukaku's crooked grin grew just a bit wider, "Certainly you haven't forgotten?"

Mayuri's jaw opened and clenched shut in indignation as Akon lifted a hand to cover a cough that sounded suspiciously similar to a laugh at the expense of his captain's rather obvious distress. Nemu hesitated, glancing between the three, fingers just barely wringing in front of her, uncertain as to whether Mayuri truly needed her defense in this matter.

The decision was made for her as the two women made quick work of snagging her father, pulling his protesting form out from behind the desk. They waved over their shoulders with an amused 'Take care of the division, hmm, Nemu?'. They left nothing in their wake but confusion and a few reports left unfinished on the table.

Nemu blinked at their retreating forms before glancing back down at the desk. She was more than used to being left behind, although she was certain her father would be unhappy when he returned. Nights out with the former noble and whatever comrades she could scare up were not at all enjoyed by her father.

She bowed her head, expression black as she began to clear the desk, organizing the papers that remain for her father to find the next morning as he nursed his hang-over (there were some things science could never seem to cure and Mayuri had found that out the hard way).

She barely blinked when Akon tapped her back, "Once you're finished, Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou, I have something to go over with you.

Nemu didn't question her fellow division member, simply nodding once more and finishing the last few things she could do before her father returned. The path to the labs was simple and short, but Akon refused any queries as to their purpose there. And it wasn't any more obvious once they stopped in the room a little off from the eleventh.

Akon scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Figures. Late." He leaned back against the gurney and checked the wall clock once more, brow wrinkling as Nemu stood awkwardly to his side. They hadn't interacted much outside the regular meetings of the division. Being alone here was anything but easy, especially in a division where social interaction ranked about as low as intelligence did in the eleventh.

The silence stretched, long and tangible until shouts unheard of at this time of night in the twelfth division began to become clear. At first, they were soft, as if filtering in from some other division or even just some lost drunkards who'd made a wrong turn and came a bit close, but the voices sounded more than a little familiar.

"Finally," Akon pushed away from the gurney, twisting his cigarette against a free counter and going to open the door, "You're late."

Nemu found herself at loss for words, lifting a pale hand to her lips as a bald head appeared through the door. Ikkaku offered her a quick smile, "Happy birthday. Sorry, s'kinda late."

Akon rolled his eyes, flicking the dog end into the waste bin and waving over his shoulder, "Have fun, kids. Disinfect the gurney once you're finished."

It wasn't Akon's problem, after all. It was Hiyosu's fault for letting him borrow the keys to his lab, especially after Hiyosu had stiffed Akon's department when it came to the budget planning for this year. That would teach him.

Akon fumbled in his shihakushou for the crumpled package he kept always at his side when he realized there was one other person in the hallway. "So?"

Hisagi broke away from the shadows; "Don't see you without the apron, often."

Akon raised an eyebrow, "Off-duty tonight." The usefulness of the oppressive white jacket was greatly depreciated when the probability of getting some acidic waste spilled onto oneself was lowered. "Why aren't you with the others?"

"No need. Abarai and Tetsu can handle themselves. Besides, it's not like Kurotsuchi-taichou's going to be leaving anytime soon," Hisagi reached up, scratching at the short black hair on his neck, "They're mostly making sure that if Matsumoto or Shiba-san looses a shirt that there will be at least two someone's appreciating it."

The smile that quirked on Akon's lips was rare enough, "And you decided you'd rather try your luck at the twelfth division?"

Hisagi grinned in return, "So, yeah, maybe I did." 


End file.
